The Company of the Black Moon
by Weir the Warlock
Summary: A king hires the dark fellowship to deal with his werewolf problem. Picks up where the Throne Card left off.
1. Chapter 1

The Dark Fellowship

The Company of the Black Moon

Chapter One

Peering through arrow slits, the four looked upon the host before them. A column of mailed knights in front of the gap that no longer held the gates to what was formerly known as Steelward Keep. A company of archers flanked both sides of the knights, behind them were the trumpeters who had announced the army's arrival. In front of the knights, also on horseback were two figures; a well-dressed (and very well-fed) man wearing a crown and holding a sceptre, and a woman in dark robes with a staff in her hand.

Shoutanei looked grim as he spoke, "Many soldiers- and at least one wizard I can see. Not promising odds."

"Bloody Hells," Kezreck, his ally and the one who 'owned' the keep snarled, "After all the things we fought to take this place we're just to hand it over to a bunch of fat lazy humans?"

"Maybe not," Garadon, the thief who wore the face of a human when the four needed to interact with the so-called goodly races answered, "Look."

Sure enough, instead of charging the knights backed away from the keep, though the archers stayed put. The wizard and man wearing the crown did not go with the knights; instead with hands raised they spurred their horses forward, though at a slow pace, stopping a short distance inside the keep's outer wall.

Shoutanei turned to Kezreck, "It looks as though they came to talk. If you're willing to listen, Garadon and I can cover you from here."

Kezreck wore a brief expression of bewilderment, but then shrugged and looked to Path-Chak, "All right bug-man, let's hear what they got to say."

The humans on horseback failed to wholly hide their surprise at seeing a brutish bugbear and a six-foot insectoid emerge from the keep, though they did manage to keep some composure.

The fat man spoke first, "I am Alsadar IV, rightful king of these lands; beside me is the court wizardess Mora. To whom am I speaking?"

"Name's Kezreck," the bugbear gestured to the insect at his side, "This is Path-Chak," then when a toothy smile added, "And this here's MY keep. Even got it on paper," though he kept one hand close to the spiked mace hanging from his belt, with the other he held out the deed that had materialized in his hand that day when he picked that fateful card from an enchanted tarot deck.

The king's eyes bulged at that last statement; tentatively plucking the parchment from Kezreck's hand he read it over, surprised to see the goblinoid's name, then passed it to Mora who read it and showed equal astonishment, "We were told it was a human who had made inquiries about this place," she said coldly as she handed the deed back to the one whose name it bore.

"Yeah, that's my buddy," Kezreck deliberately chose not to correct her about Garadon being a doppelganger, "He helps when someone's got to go places folks like you would stick me on sight. By the way, he and another friend are watching us now; if you're thinking to take this place you're going to need to call those knights back-"

"We've not come to challenge your claim on the keep," Alsadar interrupted, "As your *friend* was likely told its strategic value faded long ago. We came upon reports of those skilled enough to roust it from the beasts who had settled within including- according to Mora's divinations, a spirit naga- and to learn if those skills could be employed in the service of the realm."

Now it was Kezreck who failed to hide his shock; looking to Path-Chak he asked, "Did he just say he wants to hire us?" the thri-kreen nodded, "Oh I just got to hear this," at that, he waved the two humans forward in invitation.

If the king and magus were unnerved by the sight of a bugbear and bipedal insect taking up residence in the keep, seeing a dark elf and (what looked like a) human willing to associate with such company unsettled them even more. When Garadon brought forth a bottle of wine he had acquired from the nearest village, the humans seemed afraid to drink from it at first.

Finally the monarch got down to business, "Are any of you familiar with the Company of the Black Moon?" Four silent stares were all the answer he needed, "Thought not. They were a company of mercenaries who once served the crown well. They defeated many enemies from without its borders and within, the last being a pack of werewolves they slew when it attacked one of our villages.

"We believe at least one of the company was wounded and unknowingly infected in that battle, unaware of it until too late and passed the condition onto the rest. What is known as that now these once heroes now prey on citizens of the realm from the forests, having become the evil they once fought."

Those words hung in the air for a moment, until Kezreck asked, "So what, you want us to find these werewolves and kill them?"

"If no other option is available," Alsadar answered, cutting off Mora before she was about to speak in anger, "However I am willing to pay more if the curse upon them is undone without ending their lives."

Kezreck looked to Shoutanei, "Can you do that?"

"It should be possible," Shoutanei answered, "However, removing curses like what this king has described falls more into a priest's area of expertise." They and Garadon looked to Path-Chak, the cleric among them; after a moment of silence the thri-kreen nodded.

The king gave out a sigh of relief, "We had hoped as much, the crown is- reluctant to send warriors and clerics needed elsewhere into their domain."

"Yes, why risk your own people when you can send outsiders, after all?" Shoutanei spat sarcastically, "That's the real reason you've come to us with this mission, is it not? You see us as expendable."

The humans' silence, as well as the shameful expressions they now wore were enough to confirm the drow's suspicions; yet as they started to rise Shoutanei held out a hand then asked, "Hold on- did I say we weren't interested?"

"I didn't hear him say that," Garadon pointed out.

"Neither did I," Kezreck quipped.

Path-Chak just shook his head.

Garadon looked to the visitors, "Just what are you offering for this task?"

"Two hundred and fifty gold pieces for each set of identifiable remains," Alsadar started, "An additional fifty for each alive with the curse lifted."

"Three hundred for each set of remains," Shoutanei countered, yet at the same time thinking it would not do to get too greedy, "Twenty more for each having the curse removed without killing them."

"Done," the king assented, before handing over a scroll case, "The writings in this should tell you everything you need to know about the company, their numbers, skills and arms they are known to possess and the woods they are believed to seek shelter within and from where they launch their attacks."

The business concluded, both Alsadar and Mora showed themselves out.

Garadon went back up to see through an arrow slit; once the king's host had departed and were out of sight he came back down and the four discussed the monarch's offer. Kezreck looked to Garadon, "you can tell what people are thinking- these humans, they're going to cheat us even if we do the job, right?"

"The wizard might, if she thought she could fool us," the doppelganger answered, "The king is another matter, while many humans pay lip service to notions of honouring agreements he actually believes in them," seeing the bugbear's eyes bulge he added, "True, they are a rarity, but they do exist."

"Even so, I'm worried how quickly the king caved to our demands," Shoutanei pointed out, "To me that suggests desperation."

Through his telepathy Path-Chak asked the others if they would take the mission; in answer Shoutanei opened the scroll case that held the information on the Company of the Black Moon and doled out the parchments within.

The day passed into evening; from inside Skyward Castle, the fortification from which Alsadar IV ruled, Mora hunched over a plain-looking bowl in her quarters. Performing the right spell, the water that half-filled the bowl changed from showing her reflection to the face of a female wood elf garbed as a simple druid.

"Hello, Thornstaff," Mora spoke, "You should know the king has hired a party to do something about your werewolf situation. A motley bunch too- a human who keeps company with a drow, bugbear and some giant insect that walks on two legs. So it might actually be a bad idea to attack them on sight."

Thornstaff nodded, "Gratitude for informing me of this development," when Mora ended the spell that allowed them to commune, she could not hear the druid muse out loud, "The werewolves should recognize these meddlers easily enough, once I warn them what to expect…


	2. Chapter 2

**The Dark Fellowship**

 **The Company of the Black Moon**

 **Chapter Two**

They called her Oathbreaker. Traitor. Yet she always knew they had been the ones to betray her. All her life Ellis had looked up to their so-called holy order, followed their rituals, obeyed their edicts. It was in her striving to better herself to serve that order that another paladin had introduced her to the teachings of Lornalhan the Blademaster- a warrior whose skill helped him ascend over other humans to grab divinity for himself.

Lornalhan's wisdom had seen Ellis win battles and survive quests her fellows did not, she had become a champion of the order thanks to his teachings. Yet when the stodgy old farts who led the order learned of her secret devotion they chastised her for looking up to a heretic, an alleged war criminal. She argued she could not change the sins of his past but she used what she learned from the Blademaster for what she then thought a noble cause- was that not what was important?

The fools denounced her, she'd fled for her life, eventually came to hide in possibly the one place on the world for some strange reason their clerics could not divine her location. Here she nursed her grudges, here she meditated on revenge.

These memories intruded on Ellis as she practiced her devotions. Unlike other, softer gods one did not pray to the Blademaster by grovelling on one's knees, but by keeping one's body strong and skills sharp. Realizing how distracted she was Ellis sheathed her sword of life stealing- and suddenly noticed the smell of decaying flesh.

Stepping into the hall Ellis pondered the ever-burning torches that lined the corridors. The tower above that housed the wizard who built this place was nothing but ruins; strange the vault beneath would hold out so much better, though more than a few of the creatures bound to the dungeon had been slain over time, including whatever once inhabited the room she now claimed for herself. The enduring magic of this place kept her neighbours unable to tread far from their cells; the only other to walk the halls was a doppelganger whose derangements left him unable to hold the same face for more than a few seconds- and, she just realized, she had not seen or heard for several days now.

The smell led to Hlyddyhth's chamber. Strange, the illithid was not above calling a goblin from the tunnels below for the occasional snack but he always somehow disposed of the body before it could putrefy, unless…

"Well, hello there," Ellis mused on seeing Hlyddyhth's corpse. The mind flayer lay flat on his back and had been dead for some time. Coming closer to examine the body she noticed tiny feathered bolts sticking out of each eye on his tentacle face. Beside him lay an empty scroll tube but nothing else was taken that she could see.

Plucking a bolt out of one of the illithid's eye Ellis examined it more closely. She recalled once, when part of the order, she'd slain a dark elf assassin who shot such missiles from a tiny, one-handed crossbow- he'd also possessed the sword she now wore; at the time the order had trusted her to 'keep it out of the wrong hands'.

Ellis left the room to search for more signs of drow intrusion. If the dark elves had come in any number either they'd passed her by or come and gone while she was on one of her needed supply runs. Sure enough, a breach showed itself in the floor of a former broom closet near Garadon's chamber. For a moment she wondered if the drow had slain Garadon as well but if so they'd taken pains to hide the body- which seemed unlikely as they'd left Hlyddyhth to rot.

She sought out the other beasts confined to this vault; that the beholder, mimic, troll and medusa still lived and their charges remained were evidence enough the dark elves had missed or ignored them. The hag Ydora, however, admitted to seeing the shapeshifter lead several drow toward the chamber originally assigned to beasts known as cloakers. Her earlier explorations had shown Ellis that chamber to have been looted long before her arrival, yet beyond it was a massive, heavy steel door- which had now been breached, a section of it seeming to have corroded overnight.

As little light got past the breach Ellis went back to retrieve her lantern. Light source in one hand, sword in the other she advanced carefully. Just inside the chamber on the floor lay the dead forms of thirty small 'things', possibly the product of some wizardly experiment. Further inside lay the grisly remains of seven dark elves, a pile of dust, and two pools of slime, possibly the residue of two slain demons. Garadon's corpse was nowhere in sight; the only other bodies were those of eight creatures- the least strange of them a cat- that appeared to have died defending a now empty chest. Near that chest lay the two sections of a mace, it's haft broken in two, both pieces discarded like trash.

What had happened here? Where was Garadon and had any drow left with him? For the first in a long time Ellis felt the stirrings of curiosity.

Months later…

Within the wall surrounding Stoneruin, formerly known as Steelward Keep, the drow wizard Shoutanei watched as his companions tested their recently altered weapons. In anticipation of going up against a company of werewolves Garadon had taken his sword, Kezreck's mace and Path-Chak's polearm to the local smith to have them silver plated. Kezreck had complained about how much the procedure would set them back but Shoutanei pointed out they would be effective against other enemies as well.

Looking at the bone staff in Shoutanei's hand Kezreck asked, "How come that oversized tibia doesn't need silver plating?"

"First of all it's an oversized femur," Shoutanei corrected, "Second it is a powerful magic weapon in its own right, as befitting an inheritance from the greatest teacher of wizardry I could ever have hoped for."

"Your teacher?" Garadon interjected, "Didn't you say you stabbed another student's dagger through his eye while he slept?"

"Ours was a complicated relationship," Shoutanei answered.

"Yeah but our relationship is fairly simple right?" Kezreck asked, "Right?"

Shoutanei looked to Path-Chak, "You have prepared the proper spells? We set out tomorrow and I would see this done as soon as possible."

The thri-kreen confirmed he had prepared at least one remove curse spell and retained several more in scroll form that they'd stolen form the giant priestess/mage Vahnabi.

Shoutanei nodded, as he turned to go inside the keep Kezreck shouted, "Hey, you still haven't answered my question!"

The following morning the four rode out, following the king's map to Elderwood. They were a short distance from the trial into the forest when Kezreck stopped his croltorm mount; the others headed back to him and Garadon asked what was wrong.

"Um- hello?" Kezreck pointed to Shoutanei, "Dark elf," then to himself, Bugbear," then Path-Chak, "Bug man? We go in there without warning we'll be shot so full of arrows we'll all look like big-ass pincushions."

"Under most circumstances the goblinoid would be right," a feminine voice sounded seemingly from nowhere; out of the brush stepped a she-elf clutching a wooden staff, "However the humans warned me to anticipate your arrival and informed me of its purpose. I am the druid Thornstaff.

"The Company of the Black Moon prowls these entire woods, however you'll find a cabin about a mile northeast of the forest's heart; they repaired the place and use it as their lair- I suggest you first check the surrounding area for traps."

She saw the human stare at her briefly before nodding to his companions, as if she'd passed some silent test. They rode down the path leading into the wood; once they were out of sight she overturned the ring on her finger. A gift from the wizard among the Company of the Black Moon, he'd altered a 'ring of mind shielding' in such a way as it not only hid one's thoughts from mind readers, it actually fed any with whatever misleading information she desired- a voice in the back of her head told her this gift had just now come in very handy…

Crouching low, Garadon observed the cabin. Like the druid said it was recently repaired. Also like she said there were many nasty surprises left for any intruders, he'd found several but left them undisturbed to avoid giving himself away.

Completing a circuit around the structure yet seeing no signs of life inside he doubled back to his companions and briefed them on his reconnaissance.

"I knew it wouldn't be this easy," Kezreck muttered, "Guess we'll have to hunt the buggers down."

Path-Chak telepathically reminded him they were offered more pay for curing the werewolves, then Kezreck asked, "Yeah, but what if they don't want to be cured?"

"What do you mean?" Shoutanei asked.

"These werewolf types only turn against their will during the full moon, right?" Kezreck started, "That happens around once a month but, "He pointed to the pocket in Shoutanei's robe carrying the scroll tube provided them, "The info the king gave us says they've been making trouble a lot more often than that."

The others gasped as they realized he was right; Shoutanei turned to ask Garadon, "That druid we spoke to- you're certain she was on the level?"

"Not anymore," Garadon could not recall someone ever fooling his psychic talents, limited though they may be- but now he wondered if this was one of those proverbial first times for everything.

They huddled, and decided the cabin warranted further exploration. Rather then bring their mounts into potential danger they led the reptiles off the forest trail and into the brush, trusting the animals were smart enough not to follow and could look after themselves. Garadon led the other three toward the cabin.

Someone would need to stand guard without; normally this responsibility would fall to Garadon however Shoutanei felt the infiltrator's skills would be needed inside. Kezreck laughed when Path-Chak volunteered; rather than take offence the thri-kreen merely turned his shell the same color as the foliage of a nearby tree. Once climbing that tree, he was indistinguishable from the leaves surrounding him.

"I didn't know he could do that," Kezreck then turned to Garadon and Shoutanei, "Did either of you know he could do that?"

Garadon shrugged, "He never seemed to think of it until now," He turned and set about disabling traps, clearing a path for the other two to follow.

Once they reached the cabin proper Garadon jimmied open a window and climbed inside; a moment later he unlocked and opened the door and let the other two in.

Aside from a space set aside to cook meals and another set for the latrine the cabin was basically one room. Against the walls were five beds, three for human-sized occupants, one low and short enough for a Halfling, the last reinforced to support the bulky frame of a dwarf- all consistent with the king's information. Before each bed rested a footlocker; Garadon opened all five to find out they were empty.

"This isn't right," Shoutanei muttered, "Feels like were sitting flumphs."

Kezreck looked down at the rug beneath their feet, "Maybe there's a trapdoor – "

"If there is we've no time to open it," Garadon said, "I can sense them- they're here, and they've got us surrounded…"


	3. Chapter 3

The Company of the Black Moon

The Dark Fellowship

Chapter Three

Several nights before…

As the clouds drifted past the light of the quarter moon shone down on the inn known as the Lonely Heart. Too ritzy for peasants and most transients, the lodgings served as a place where nobles (and over the years an occasional monarch, or so the rumours say) of the land could conduct dalliances away from prying eyes. This particular evening Duke Cavorc, a rotund and blustering buffoon oblivious to his girth and lack of charm enjoyed the attention of a raven-haired woman who had recently caught his wandering eye.

Clutching the bottle of fine wine in both hands, the uncouth aristocrat bit down on its cork and with a twist of his neck wrenched it out, unintentionally splashing his guest who forced a smile and pretended not to notice. A slender woman, her pale complexion contrasted well with her black tresses. With a hand she shifted a lock of that hair to conceal the small scar above her brow; it and several others across her toned arms were all that marred her otherwise perfect form.

"You'll find this the finest in all the kingdom," Cavorc bragged as he filled two goblets, spilling as much of it on the floor as into the glasses, "But I believe you asked about something else, um…"

"Ellis," the woman reminded him of her name, "I had asked about some humanoids they say the king had addressed…"

Upon leaving the underground vault where for some time she had hidden, Ellis the Oathbreaker sought clues to the fate of the shape shifting Garadon and, she suspected at the time, at least one dark elf. After months of false leads and wild goose chases she made her way to the desert city Balaiassi; the walls of its buildings decorated with wanted posters showing a man's face that she'd often seen Gradon wear (though never longer than a moment) alongside that of a drow spellcaster and a bugbear. The nature of their crime was vague but allegedly it had nearly condemned Balaiassi's citizens to die of thirst.

From there the trail led her to a caravan of human nomads, according to which they had acquired another companion in the form of a six-foot bipedal insect. Those nomads directed her back to the north; in the hope of learning more she suffered the company of this arrogant lummox.

"Ah, yes. The brutes had walled themselves up in 'Stoneruin'- the nickname of a keep that was built to garrison some iron mines," Cavorc passed his lady guest a goblet, "Once all the iron was dug out of those hills the place was deserted; when word reached Alsadar four humanoids like you described had killed off the monsters squatting there he went over with a host of knights and archers."

"To recapture the keep," Ellis assumed.

"You'd think so," Corvac belched, "Instead he hired them of all things- to deal with a few troublemaking sellswords that at some point turned into werewolves. Frankly, I hope they both wipe each other off the face of the world."

Downing the rest of his glass Cormac turned to put it back on the nightstand; with his back to her Ellis took a silken cloth in both hands, with which she wrapped around the noble's flabby neck and tightened. Shortly after he gasped his last she heaved his corpse onto the bed and covered him with the blanket. That done she prepared to leave. Repellent as Corvac was he had served a purpose; knowing Garadon and company hunted werewolves should narrow down their whereabouts some, and even if it didn't she could always seek out this place called Stoneruin.

As she slipped away from the inn and made her way back to the dead tree trunk whose hollow she had stashed her sword and armour it occurred to Ellis- all this time she had been trying to track the doppelganger down, she hadn't stopped to think what she would do once she finally found it…

The present day…

Path-Chak watched from within the boughs of the tree he hid, save for slowly turning his head to indifferent directions his camouflaged form kept as still as the smaller mantids his people resembled.

He almost missed them at first- though he were careful and kept beneath the bush someone was definitely approaching the cabin. Trying not to panic or make himself too obvious the thri-kreen made out an additional four figures creeping toward the structure- and all five of them seemed able to elude the traps Garadon said were all around it.

They had to be the Company of the Black Moon. Path-Chak debated using his telepathy to shout out an alarm but as by now they had closed well within sixty feet of the cabin Garadon likely sensed them already. What his allies needed was a way out- then it occurred to him though the enemy surrounded the cabin they had passed the tree in which he hid by- if he was quiet and careful enough he might be able to be the knife in their back…

Inside the cabin Path-Chak's comrades tensed. Using the sign language Shoutanei taught them all Garadon said he sensed five strangers around the cabin- all of which knew they were there, and none of which intended them anything close to good will.

"What about bug-man?" Kezreck asked using the same sign language, "Did they catch him already?"

"I don't think so," Garadon replied, "But there's not much he can do without giving himself away, and the second he does that he's a goner."

Tightening the fingers on both hands around his staff Shoutanei muttered under his breath, "Like rothe to the slaughter."

Theria smiled to herself as she hefted her crossbow, aiming it squarely on the opened window. Myzza and Corben also steadied ranged weapons on the structure from different flanks; Corben knocked a short bow while Myzza gripped a javelin whose head was shaped like a bolt of lightning in one halfling-sized hand. Foaming at the mouth, Vashav the savage elf clutched an axe in each hand as she shifted from one foot to the other, eager to rush in and start slashing, yet remained where she was, in her assigned role as protector of their company's wizard Ketrog. Behind her the dwarf raised a hand to the red beads hanging from the metal band on his neck. Looking Theria's way, he caught the eye of their leader and nodded.

Theria cleared her throat and yelled out to the fools she and hers had entrapped, "We know you're in there- if those idiots working for the king hadn't told Thornstaff you were coming you might have surprised us! As it is- if the weapons we've trained on you aren't enough reason to surrender, Ketrog has a good arm- and plenty beads on a necklace of fireballs for him to throw with it."

None of the three inside could recall at the moment if their information told of any of the company possessing such an item but they chose to assume Theria spoke the truth; while they tried to think of a way out Garadon shouted back, "Then why hasn't he used it already?"

"Be a shame to burn down a good cabin after all the trouble we went through to fix it," Ketrog joked loudly, "Besides Theria wanted to give you a chance to join us- make you shapechangers like ourselves, teach you how to control it so you decide when to shift and still think like men. Surely that has to sound like a better offer than a bunch of shallow graves in the bush."

Shoutanei readied a hand to cast a fireball spell of his own while in an atypical moment of outrage Kezreck shouted out, "I don't believe this- the human king told us you thugs were supposed to be heroes!"

"Heroes," Theria spat, "And where did that get us- scars and cuts protecting a bunch of ingrate dirt-farmers! When the killings started again we actually thought one or two had been overlooked; by the time we realized it was our doing there was too much 'innocent' blood on our hands to turn back.

"But you know what, at the same time our eyes were truly opened- whether in wolf form or humanoid, it just feels good to be bad. Besides, we know what you are- no matter how much gold that king's dangling in front of your faces you have to know he sees you as monstrous as us, that he hopes at least some of you die doing his dirty work- what do you truly owe him?"

While Theria rambled Kezreck backed to the wall ready to smash open the window on the other side of the door. Shoutanei crouched so he could move to a better position without appearing in line of sight for the enemy outside. Garadon kept to a corner and readied his bow toward another pane on the opposite wall in the direction of the foe he sensed some distance away. But all three knew if they had any hope of getting out of this they needed a distraction…

Theria had decided their silence was answer enough to her offer of inclusion; just as she was about to command Ketrog to unleash his fireballs strange shrieks filled the air- shrieks they none of them had ever heard before.

The three they menaced however, were quite familiar with the sounds of Croltorm, especially their own mounts. Deciding this was the best hope of a diversion they were ever going to get, they acted. As Kezreck smashed the closed window open with his mace Shoutanei sprang back up, at the same time chanting the words and making the gestures for a fireball spell. The very instant a sphere of flame shot from the dark elf's hand into the woods outside Garadon loosed his arrow, hearing a cry of pain an instant before the fireball detonated.

The explosion blasted in all directions; grass, bush and traps that had yet to be sprung went up in flame. The thickest trees held but their bark was badly singed, the leaves on their branches suffered the same fate as the grass below. A deafened Theria tumbled to the ground, rolling to smother the flames that licked at her cloak, boots and hair. Once they were out she took to her feet and though she doubted they could hear her anymore than she could hear herself Theria screamed for any survivors to retreat as she bolted away.

Kezreck peeked from the window he smashed to see a circle of ash about twenty feet in diameter dotted with blackened trunks. Following Garadon and the drow outside he welcomed the greater sight of Path-Chak astride his croltorm, the other three beasts behind him and exulted, "Bug-man!"

"Yes yes, we're all happy to see him alive," Shoutanei muttered, "We can celebrate after we get way from here before any survivors can regroup."

And with that, those still on foot mounted and followed Path-Chak away from the scene of carnage.

At the forest's edges the druid Thornstaff challenged a black-haired woman in armour, demanding to know the human's business. The woman tried to placate her with talk of simply passing through but with a party seeking the Company of the Black Moon entering the forest so recently Thornstaff was having none of it.

Connected to the land as she was, Thornstaff felt the explosion of the fireball rather than hear it. In a scream of both rage and pain she turned from the intruder and melted into the brush. The dark-haired woman briefly smiled, then crept forward in the direction the druid had gone.

Finally deciding they were far enough away the four slowed their steeds to a stop. Even though Garadon sensed no one else near they still looked about in all directions, peering around even as they spoke. Kezreck was the first, asking "What do we do now?"

"We find a defensible location," Shoutanei started, "And do what we can to prepare for their next onslaught."

Path-Chak telepathically questioned the dark elf's strategy and suggested that retreat might be a better option.

"There is no retreat," Garadon answered, "We know they're no longer the cursed do-gooders the king believes them to be. Even if most humans laugh at any accusations we make they can't take the risk that one might believe us- or at the very least harbour some suspicions. They'll never let us leave these woods."

"It's not just them we need to worry about," Shoutanei added, "Don't forget the druid that led us into their ambush somehow- I doubt she's willing to risk whatever arrangement she has with the werewolves coming to light either."

"Besides," Kezreck contributed, "We turn and run, we don't get paid."

The others stared at him dumbfounded until Shoutanei remarked, "It is good to know you have your priorities in order." With that the wizard pulled out one of the maps King Alsadar had supplied them with, and as a group they studied it.

By now their enemies had gathered back together in their cabin .Standing on her bed, the diminutive Myzza tended to the arrow that went clean through a sitting Corben's shoulder. After carefully cutting the shaft in two she set her dagger aside then reached around him to grasp the arrow and pull it out from behind. She dropped the shaft then pressed against the exit wound with one hand as Corben put pressure on the entry wound with his own.

Seeing her fumble for the bandages with her free hand Corben cracked, "You know, I'm starting to miss the days you could heal me with just a touch."

"Yeah well, chew up a few peasants and suddenly you're no longer worthy to bear the gifts of a paladin," Myzza grumbled back.

The wound dressed Corben studied the head of the offending arrow; sniffing it he grimaced, "Something nasty was applied to this- and you said chugging one of those protection from poison potions before every fight was paranoia."

During this exchange Ketrog had helped Theria drag Vashav's corpse inside with weary arms; dropping it they looked down on their fallen comrade. By sheer bad luck the elf barbarian had stood on the edge of the fireball's blast radius; the left side of her face was mostly recognizable but her body's right side was little more than charcoal that stunk of burnt flesh. Out of a grotesque irony the battle axe she held in her charred right hand looked completely undamaged.

"We should've just stormed the cabin in wolf form and torn the lot of them apart with our teeth and claws," Ketrog spat.

"Yes, we should have," Theria was in complete agreement. There was no excuse- drunk from victories against others sent to 'undo their curse' they'd allowed themselves to get cocky. And now one of them was dead for it.

Theria looked out past the open door as she stood. In the centre of the destruction Thornstaff, on her knees, was wailing over the damage caused to her precious woods. Gradually the others came to the doorway to look.

"You'd think she'd be grateful it didn't spread and burn the whole forest down," Corben muttered.

"She can waste her time crying," Theria spoke, "The question we must answer is, did the bastards who killed Vashav get out while the getting was good or are they idiotic enough to insist on taking on the rest of us?"

They all thought the same as she did. With sadistic grins they shifted. Black fur sprouted from their skin, nails stretched into claws, humanoid faces distorted and became fanged muzzles. Catching the scent of their enemies in the air, the Company of the Black Moon set out into the wilds, eager to savour the taste of humanoid blood one more time.

Snorting the air around them, the werewolves tracked their enemies' scent; a trail that led to a cluster of thick trees with four faint shadows within. The shadows were motionless but they practically stank of Vashav's killers. They circled the cluster, ensuring any flight would only end in bloody death.

Myzza snarled as she hefted her enchanted javelin in her clawed hand; hurling it forward the projectile transformed into a pint-sized bolt of lightning, one of the shadows dropped as the bolt blasted through it.

Upon this all four vaulted into the cluster and fell upon the shadows howling as they slashed with their talons. Only when their rage subsided did they see they were attacking four rain cloaks stuffed with leaves and branches.

"I don't get it," Corben whined, the words distorted by his semi-lupine throat, "The scent led-" he sniffed the air again, "Hells, is that smell what I think it is?"

Urine. Their quarry had actually pissed on the cloaks to ensure the decoys would have their scent; with a thirst for vengeance and the predator in their blood the werewolves had fallen for it like chumps.

"Doesn't matter!" Theria roared, "They're only delaying-" suddenly she froze. Barely audible chanting was in the air; in their rage they had failed to register it- the chanting of a spell. But they noticed it now.

Myzza and Ketrog vaulted from the trees, Myzza shouting "Get out of-"

Too late- all around the cluster a thick mass of webbing materialized, immersing three of the lycanthropes up to their necks. Myzza had almost leapt clear, only to be enveloped at the waist, in a position too awkward to claw herself free. Only Ketrog's head and clawed hands were not wrapped in the mass.

From bushes upwind both Garadon and Kezreck emerged; the former ready at the bow, the latter swinging four sets of manacles- out of five he'd brought in his pack should the 'cursed' Company of the Black Moon proved resistant to being brought back to civilization. Seconds later Shoutanei stood up staff in hand, still chanting and making the gestures with his free fingers necessary to keep the webs he conjured from dispersing.

Kezreck pointed back to the drow with his thumb, and said to the trapped foes, "You know he actually thought you wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for this."

"Spare us the gloating and kill us already," Theria snarled.

"We probably would but the king's paying more for you alive and cured, for what little good that's supposed to do. Bug-man?"

From a thicket of poplars, also upwind, Path-Chak emerged, doing away with the camouflage as he did so. Approaching Myzza first, with his upper arms out the thri-kreen preformed the remove curse spell he prepared; suddenly the pint-sized predator reverted back to her halfling form forcibly and permanently.

Kezreck selected the pair of manacles sized to contain a halfling, which he locked around Myzza's wrists whist Path-Chak circled around the webbed cluster. Though he had only gone far enough in his field to prepare one spell as advanced as remove curse, he still retained it in the form of several scrolls his party plundered from a giantess during their episode back in the desert. Opening the scroll tube he pulled out three of them, then one by one he read the scroll out loud (sort of,) each sheet of parchment crumbling as each of the werewolves unwillingly returned to their humanoid state.

Shoutanei had to end the web spell for the former lycanthropes to be moved; fortunately the humiliation of entrapment and the 'curing' of their condition seemed to finally take out any fight they had left, none resisted when Kezreck shackled them. The four started to drag their captives when they themselves heard chanting- in the voice of Thornstaff! Before any could react strong vines burst out of the soil and wrapped them up like bales of hay.

The druid stepped forward, still focusing on her entanglement spell; she sneered as the vines she conjured strung themselves around the outsiders necks and began to tighten…

The chants quickly became a scream as something sharp burst through the druid's belly; she dropped to the ground, the vines choking the dark fellows unravelled into nothing. As they looked up they saw behind the druid's body a black-haired woman in armour holding a bloodied sword, whose blade separated into two prongs just over halfway up its length.

The armoured woman looked down on Thornstaff's form. The wound she caused would not have been fatal if inflicted by most blades; yet Thornstaff was not only dead but shrivelled, the vitality just drained out of her.

Ellis looked up from the body to the four and their prisoners. Recognizing the doppelganger as well as observing it had no trouble maintaining its human disguise, she knew this was not the same pitiful wretch once that cowered and ranted in an unknown wizard's dungeon.

"Been a long time, Garadon," she glanced at Shoutanei, "I take it you came with those drow lying in pieces all over the vault?"

Shoutanei frowned but Garadon looked confused, his last encounter with Ellis was before his shattered mind had been remade whole, of what had occurred and who he met during his prolonged dementia he had no memory, he asked, "Am I supposed to know you?"

Her face darkened in anger, especially after sparing him and his friends from strangulation but Ellis held herself in check- she supposed it was folly to think he'd remember her. Wiping the blood off her sword before sheathing it, Ellis glared at the four, then turned and walked off.

"Is she going to be trouble?" Kezreck asked, "Should we, you know-"

"Bad form to hunt down someone who's just saved our lives," Shoutanei interrupted, "Besides I don't know about the rest of you, but I can't leave this forest fast enough," he grabbed Corben, the nearest of the former werewolves by the arm, "Let's get these bastards back to the castle."

"Don't forget we got to swing by and grab the dead one if we want to collect on her too," Kezreck reminded him. With that, the eight of them started walking.

Alsadar IV was speaking with the emissary of another realm when a runner from the gates bolted in to tell him 'they' had arrived. With Mora and a small entourage of guards the monarch headed out past the castle gates to see four of the Company of the Black Moon, alive but chained, before as the beasts he had recruited to find them, as well as a wagon that held something covered in a tarp.

"Here you go- four former werewolves," Kezreck quipped as he shoved the survivors toward the king ad his guards; at this point Garadon reached into the wagon and pulled part of the tarp aside to reveal Vashav's body, the unburnt side of her face bloated in death yet still recognizable.

Mora glared at Garadon and company, "I suppose we should be grateful you brought back any of them alive at all."

"We performed the task you hired us for." Shoutanei calmly but coldly replied.

"Yes you did," Alsadar turned to Mora and, with a tone that made it very clear he was in no mood for argument bade her, "Fetch the gold." two guards took the chained ex-lycanthropes inside.

The following night back at Stoneruin, or as the four had started to call it- Kezreck's Keep, they celebrated with wine amidst the packs stuffed with coin from Alsadar IV's vaults. Kezreck laughed as a handful of gold pieces fell through his fingers and onto the floor, "Not bad for honest work, huh guys?"

"I confess I rather enjoyed that look of disappointment on Mora's face on seeing all of us return safely." Shoutanei admitted, "All the same I don't think we should count on making careers out of this sort of work- with Alsadar or other humans."

"Ah you're just being a party pooper," Kezreck slurred, "If there's one thing I know it's no matter what their race, there's always someone that wants another someone's head caved in and willing to pay good money to see it done."

Shoutanei nodded, it was an observation even he could not argue with


End file.
